The Jewel's Feign
by ibuberu
Summary: And it almost felt like she was suffering from a chronic case of unrequited love. — GoldWhitney.


**world** – manga  
**note** – requested by _Crazy Packers Fan_

* * *

**The Jewel's Feign**

Whitney had not intended to see a changed Gold exiting the day care on a casual afternoon walk on the outskirts of her city. She had caught glimpses of him through the years, said friendly hellos and good-byes and participated in the frequent argument. It had certainly developed into a ritual of sorts, but recently, seeing him brought back memories and unexpected confusion.

She glanced at the broadness of his shoulders, the boyish essence caked in his unruly hair and the way his chest elevated with each breath of air he took. Dear god, how could he have developed into such a handsome young man? Whitney bit her lip and clenched onto the sides of her shorts discreetly, ordering her heart to calm down before the blood could flood to her cheeks. But to no avail, Gold had realised her presence and was quickly making his way over to her, a trio of eggs cradled in his arms. The gym leader closed her eyes briefly to mediate between her heart and her conscious, quickly finding enough control in herself to spread a smile on her face and wave a flimsy hand at herself.

"It sure is hot today, isn't it?" she squeaked, beads of nervous sweat tumbling down her neck.

"Really? I didn't notice," Gold answered her, his voice low and smooth she could imagine it tasted like warm honey.

Whitney knotted her brow and reminded herself that she was no longer sixteen, and he was no more that bratty eleven-year old trainer. He was breaching the age of fifteen now, and she – she felt like an old hag in comparison. Her confidence had fled the moment she locked gazes with those bright electric eyes, giving way to tingles of infatuation and an unmistakable tug at the threads supporting her heart. She searched herself for the mental endurance that was left twisting in her gut, struggling to retain whatever personality she had left.

"Hmph! And you're wearing that ugly jacket too!" she laughed teasingly, raising her chin and trying to regard him with her normally superior eyes despite the instability that was flailing inside her.

A shocked frown donned Gold's face in response, and he looked quite betrayed. "What! This jacket is the epitome of coolness, only the stylish like me could pull it off in such goddamn weather!" he retorted, squaring his shoulders and snapping like a displeased child.

Whitney drew back a few inches, slightly fazed. She scrutinized his furrowed brow and the sheen of sweat on his neck, the cogs in her mind whirring as she pieced two and two together. The gym leader placed a hand over her mouth before breaking out into amused laughter. The boy standing opposite her allowed his mouth to gape open in surprise, the cool and suave image he had tried to paint instantly peeling off.

"So you are hot!" she said in triumph, attempting to stifle the bout of giggles that had captured her. Gold was still Gold regardless of how much time had passed and the miraculous wonders it had done to him – he was still someone eager for attention, determined to prove his best, funny without meaning to, and just that slightly irritating with all his endeavours to blatantly show-off.

"Hey! What's so funny!" he cried out, straightening his posture, showing that he was now half a head taller than her. The woman stilled, watching the teenager quite unabashedly as he stared down at her, dark bangs framing his eyes and mouth curled into a tight frown. The eggs jumped in his arms as he moved, and one slid out of its place in the abrupt motion, losing the safety of his hold.

The boy's expression immediately shifted, frantic alarm etching itself onto his face as he felt the egg roll over his arm. Whitney screamed instinctively as she jumped towards him to close the distance, reaching out her hands to grab the egg. As her fingers embraced the warm, rough surface of the shell, her knuckles brushed against the soft material of Gold's jacket, and her cheek landed at the base of his neck, the cold metal zipper sharp against the flawless skin of her face. She clutched the egg dearly between her stomach and his, her eyes shut and her mouth furled into an anxious grimace. In her pink imagination, she felt that time had slowed to a halt so that she could feel his warmth and hear the drumming of his heart – to confirm that he was human, he was standing there and he was within her reach even after five long years of uncertain rivalry and arguments that held no basis.

She opened her eyes, hearing the bulleting rhythm of his heart nearly hammering into her ear, feeling the heat emanating from his body – and, oh, this wasn't just her imagination being kind.

Whitney wondered how his heart had picked up so much pace, before looking up to see Gold's eyes staring transfixed and worriedly at the egg on her hands. While the scene was touching and made her question if Gold was more than just a dumb boy, it was affecting and stinging as well. The woman sighed softly, removing all points of contact with him – naturally he had been concerned about the egg, naturally his heart was leaping at the off chance it had been broken. It was silly of her to entertain that he had been mesmerized by her proximity.

She rubbed a hand against the back of her head silently, feeling strands of hair sticking to her neck. Her skin was dry from the summer heat, and she questioned why she had woken up that morning and told herself that she was beautiful and pretty and ready to face the world in all its advances to woo her pride and flatter her skill. Whitney pulled herself together, summoning a smile before placing the egg back into its rightful place.

"Good thing I was here to save it from your clumsiness!" She broke the straining silence with her voice, eyes casting themselves on the dirt-paved road.

"Yeah, thanks," Gold answered, in a way that seemed almost shy and uncharacteristic of him.

"Sound more grateful, why don't you?" Whitney demanded, getting the hang of feigning in front of the boy who would never offer her a meaningful look or a cheesy pick-up line. She then recalled the girl in the pristine lab coat and the pigtails, the one that possessed the clearest blue eyes. She remembered the sting in her sixteen-year old heart when she witnessed them holding hands, leaning intimately against each other for support at the stadium where everything just came crashing down.

"I already said thanks!" Gold huffed, his cheeks reddening; serving to enhance the urge to want to wrap her arms around his neck and feel his heart's little song – if only to wish that it had been beating for her.

And it almost felt like she was suffering from a chronic case of unrequited love.

Whitney dismissed it secretly – because she was always on the receiving end of unrequited love and never the victim, because she could never truly like Gold and his bratty, obnoxious behaviour, because Gold was just too young– because it was impossible.

* * *

**end**


End file.
